


01. Mistletoe

by greywolfheir



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Christmas Party, M/M, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 14:32:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greywolfheir/pseuds/greywolfheir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just after the Apocalypse-That_Wasn't, Aziraphale and Crowley receive an invitation to a party hosted by the Antichrist himself</p>
            </blockquote>





	01. Mistletoe

Aziraphale was glaring at a card in his hand when Crowley walked in, the bell on the door announcing his presence. Aziraphale didn’t look up, knowing there was only one man-shaped being who would dare walk in the shop.

“Cancelled your lifetime supply of free sushi did they?” Crowley asked, indicating the card. “You’d think you’d remember that they can’t exactly supply for a lifetime as long as ours, angel.”

Aziraphale finally looked up, directing his glare at Crowley now. “Very funny, dear. This is actually an invitation to a Christmas party from Adam Young. As in, the Antichrist.”

“Yes, I remember who Adam Young is,” Crowley said flippantly, trying to cover for the fact that he was a little worried. The almost-Apocalypse had just not-happened that summer and Crowley and Aziraphale hadn’t gotten contacted by, well, _anyone_. Not their superiors, not their fellow brethren, and certainly not the merry band of apocalypse-preventers. And invitation like this had to be suspicious. “Why does he want an angel at his party?”

“Not just me, dear,” Aziraphale corrected, handing him the card. “It’s addressed to both of us.”

Crowley read the invitation. It seemed innocent enough, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. “It could be dangerous.”

“He was on our side,” Aziraphale countered, though he didn’t look so confident. “Maybe he’s simply being polite. We can’t ignore an invitation like this, can we?”

“You’re right,” Crowley acknowledged. “We have to go. We’ll just be on our guard.”

 

* * *

                                                                                                                                                                             

They both stepped out of the Bentley but stood for a moment watching the house. It seemed most everyone had already arrived. The driveway was filled with cars and there was loud music coming from the house. The house itself was adorned with Christmas lights—a lot so that it wasn’t bare but not so many it was obnoxious.

“Seems innocent enough,” Aziraphale said softly, clouds of his breath forming in the air.

“We should still keep on guard. Shall we?”

Aziraphale nodded and they made their way up to the door. Crowley hesitated but lifted his hand to the doorbell and it rang cheerily. Both beings took deep breaths as the door opened and braced themselves.

Crowley’s first thought when Adam leaped forward was that he was going to kill them both right there on the doorstep. Aziraphale had jumped and made a noise, telling Crowley he’d been thinking something similar. But Adam simply grabbed them both into the hug and then Crowley got very, very confused.

“You made it!” Adam said as he stepped back and ushered the two of them in. “That means we got everyone an’ we can start opening presents an’ everythin’….” Adam looked at Aziraphale and Crowley’s empty hands. “You brought presents, right?”

Crowley cleared his throat, trying to think of an answer that wouldn’t incur Adam’s wrath, but Aziraphale beat him to it.

“They’re in the car, dear,” Aziraphale said. “We weren’t quite sure if we were supposed to bring any.”

“It’s a _Christmas_ party; of _course_ you’re supposed to bring presents!” Adam exclaimed. He grabbed Aziraphale and Crowley’s hands and dragged them toward the living room, where most of the sound was coming from. Once there, Crowley quickly realized that Adam had invited everyone who had showed up for the End That Never Came. Before Crowley could deduce anything else, though, Adam turned off the music and everyone got quiet.

“Thank you all very much for coming,” Adam said robotically and precisely, like he’d prepared that line ahead of time. He paused and then shook his head as if he’d decided that had been a terrible idea. “You can all stop bein’ nervous, ‘right? I know I did that…thing but I dint like all that messin’ about.” No one moved still and Adam sighed. “The only reason I invited everyone is cos I wanted us to actually _know_ each other. We saved the world dint we? An’ people wot save the world together got to be friends, right? Like the Justice League an’ all that. Plus we get to bring each other presents an’ stuff. But we gotta know everyone’s names first, right?”

Crowley looked at Aziraphale, who shrugged but seemed much less nervous than he had been. Crowley was still wary as Adam began the introductions. The Antichrist introduced everyone from his friends to the woman Aziraphale had briefly possessed—Madame Tracy, Crowley learned—and that witch who ran into his car and her husband. He introduced all the Horsepersons of the apocalypse, saying that he told them expressly they weren’t to use their powers. Given by any other eleven year old that would have been laughable, but everyone knew nothing would happen if Adam was there. Last, he introduced Crowley and Aziraphale, giving the same warning remark that Crowley, as a demon, wouldn’t do anything either.

When it came time for presents, Crowley took Aziraphale’s shoulder and led him outside to the Bentley

“We should leave now, while it’s safe,” Crowley said once they were safely out of sight from those inside.

“Leaving might be more dangerous,” Aziraphale said. “Besides, you heard the boy; there’s nothing to worry about,”

“That’s what they all say before you turn around and they’ve stabbed you in the back,” Crowley said. “Besides, we don’t have any—oh.”

In the backseat of the Bentley, there was a large mound of colorfully wrapped boxes. Crowley looked at Aziraphale. “Did you have to go so over-the-top, angel?”

 “That wasn’t me,” Aziraphale said with a knowing smile. “I’m telling you dear, there’s nothing to worry about with the boy.”

 

* * *

 

The rest of the party turned out to be mildly decent—at least from Crowley’s point of view. Aziraphale absolutely loved everything about it, and by the evening he was smiling and laughing. Crowley started to think maybe things weren’t so bad when Aziraphale lit up like a beacon the way he was. And he did actually get to talk to a few people. Raven turned out to be pretty clever and earned Crowley’s respect and despite running into the Bentley and leaving behind that infernal book of hers, Anathema was a pretty decent woman.

As people were leaving, Aziraphale insisted on staying to help with the clean-up. Crowley was getting impatient but he wasn’t about to leave his angel alone with the literal Spawn of Satan, so he was roped into helping too. As Aziraphale and Crowley were coming back from carrying some items in the kitchen, they stopped when the Them all burst into laughter.

“What?” Crowley demanded.

Adam simply raised an eyebrow and pointed above their heads. Hanging there innocently was a sprig of mistletoe. Adam laughed again as he asked, “You know what that means, right?”

Crowley looked back down at Aziraphale, who was turning a bright shade of pink and was attempting to stammer out a casual sentence. “Well, you—you don’t stay in the world for a few millennia without picking up a few traditions.”

“So get on with it!” Adam exclaimed impatiently yet gleefully.

“My dear boy,” Aziraphale gasped. “That’s not—it isn’t _truly_ —Crowley wh—“

Crowley had decided enough was enough and he leaned forward to give Aziraphale a peck on the lips. He ignored the encouraging whoops and wolf-whistles from the Them, simply took Aziraphale’s arm and called over his shoulder, “We’re leaving now. Goodbye.”

Aziraphale was too shocked to truly register much, but before they were gone, he managed to mutter, “Thank you for the invitation.”

[ _Part 2_ ](../../collections/25_Days_of_Fic_by_Greywolfheir/works/1082139)


End file.
